


Synesthesia

by Sketchy_Skittles



Series: Planetary Spaces [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bell Bassinet, Deafness written by someone who isn't deaf, Fluff, Goldie Galloway, Marnie Mellour, Music Lessons, Synesthesia, Team Bonding, sorta - Freeform, what else do I tag this with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 12:59:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16450415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sketchy_Skittles/pseuds/Sketchy_Skittles
Summary: Everyone always wondered how Goldie could play the guitar deaf, but Marnie was the first one to ask.





	Synesthesia

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not super knowledgeable on deafness or synesthesia so if I got anything wrong let me know.

Goldie lounged on the couch, her head in Bell’s lap as she fiddled with the well-loved guitar in her hands. She could tell it was off-tune, the colours in her mind all seemed to clash.

She tuned, then strummed, and was met with sharp reds and gentle greens.   
That wasn't right.

She tuned again and strummed again, this time watching as sparks of orange and red flooded her sight.  
Closer, she supposed.

Again, a tune and a strum, coupled with a wave of ginger and vibrant blue spears.   
No, not that.

Once more she fiddled and plucked, observing the sea of mauves and golds that quickly flooded her mind’s eye.  
Perfect.

She formulated a melody, letting vibrations fall from experienced fingers and disperse lazily throughout the room. Goldie closed her eyes and watched the dazzling beams and hues, dancers of pure colour and sensation performing just for her. Sights and feelings wrapped around her, like a dryer-warmed blanket draped over her shoulders. Like she was watching fireworks with friends, completely at peace.

Until something buzzed at her side, that is  
Startled, her fingers slipped on the strings and the wonders fell away with discordant fragments of ginger and red.  
Now fully and thoroughly bothered, she fished her phone out her pocket and read the message responsible for disturbing her.

‘Chiter:  
Incredibly Valid- #jam_and_honey- Whats a newt: Goldie how do you do that?’

She looked to Marnie, who sat on the ground, mobile in hand, a bowl and red candle before her. The last trails of smoke floated free from the wick; the bowl gave off the scent of calendula and burning. They shared a look: Goldie puzzled, Marnie curious.

Placing her phone down, Goldie signed,  
“Do what?”  
and Marnie took to typing. Goldie opened up the messenger just moments before Marnie’s question came through.

‘Whats a newt: How can you play the guitar so well?’   
Goldie was still quite confused.  
‘Croissant: @Whats a newt has a point, actually. How is it that you can play so well if you’ve never heard the notes?’

Yeah, that would be a reasonable question to ask.

She looked up at Bell, unable to see her face behind the colourful casing of her phone but still able to feel her eyes watching for a response.  
“Practice I guess? I don't know,” she replied, “I just kinda feel it.”

Marnie furrowed her brows, more lost now than she had been before.

‘Whats a newt: that's not really an answer, y’know’  
“Well it's true! That's what I do!”   
Marnie shot her a disbelieving look, starting a war of stubborn glances. Goldie’s phone buzzed again.

‘Croissant: @qwhat why don't you just show her how to play?’

Goldie considered it. On the one hand, it would give her the chance to show Marnie what she meant. On the other, though, she didn't want to risk Marnie somehow breaking her guitar. It was her prized possession!

Live life on the edge, she supposed.

With a shrug, she slid over and beckoned Marnie to her side, who took the invitation and sat down next to her.

“What do you know about playing the   
guitar?”  
Marnie rubbed the back of her neck, lacking an answer Goldie would like  
Oh boy.

Goldie showed her how to hold the prized guitar, where to put her fingers. How best to strum a C natural and an A minor, how to shift easily between the chords. The difference between an A7, F, C7, and G sharp. The two spent at least an hour working together on the art of guitar.

(Later they would come to learn that Bell had recorded their impromptu music lesson and sent it to the others. Feather found it cute, Runnings thought it funny, and CoCo wanted in.)

Towards the end of the lesson, Goldie asked Marnie to play something. Nothing too complex really, just a simple rhythm. Goldie set a steady beat, and she took off. The first few beats were calm and light, like a mid-spring day. Bright greens and soft pinks twirled in ribbons through Goldie’s mind, dandelions and bluebonnets practically brushing past her ankles.

Until Marnie played a C7 instead of a C, bringing Goldie's little world to a sharp, grinding halt. Marnie tried to salvage it, she really did, but all that came of it was harsh colours and rough stones. She put her hand atop Marnie’s, forcing her to stop.

They gave it another try, only to get the similar results. They tried again, and again, and again, until Marnie shoved the guitar back to Goldie in exchange for her phone.

‘Chiter:  
Incredibly Valid- #jam_and_honey- Whats a newt: i dont get it??  
Whats a newt: why won't it sound right?????’

Goldie set the guitar to the side to free up her hands.  
“Are you visualizing what you’re playing”  
Marnie furrowed her brow and wrinkled her nose, puzzled once again.

‘Whats a newt: what does that even mean’

Goldie put a hand to her chin. How was she supposed to explain something so simple, so instinctual, something as natural as breathing?

“Imagine the colours you want to see. Their hues and saturations. What shape do they take? how fast are they moving? Do they feel like a soft blanket, or an ocean wave knocking you over? Figure out what you want, and once you know, play until that's what you get.”

Bell and Marnie simply stared at her, completely and utterly lost.  
“You are doing that, right?”  
Something dawned on Bell.

‘Croissant: d  
Croissant: do you have synesthesia @qwhat’

Tired of going between sign and her phone, Goldie opted to simply message them instead.

‘qwhat: what’s synesthesia?  
Whats a newt: It’s when one sensory input gets mixed with another  
Whats a newt: Things like hearing colors or seeing sounds  
Whats a newt: Which actually sounds just like what you were describing   
qwhat: Bell.  
qwhat: Marnie.  
qwhat: im *D E A F*  
qwhat: HOW WOULD THAT EVEN WORK?????  
Whats a newt: It doesn't necessarily need to be auditory. For you it might be based on tactile input  
Croissant: Yeah! When the strings vibrate your mind might be closely associating the feeling with certain sights.  
qwhat: But this happens with everything!!!  
Whats a newt: Goldie how long has this been happening to you?’

Goldie looked to Bell, then Marnie, searching for even a hint of a sign that they were messing with her. No such sign or hint appeared. They were both dead serious.

‘qwhat: My whole life!!!  
Croissant: Really? Why didn't you tell anybody?  
qwhat: I always thought it was normal!!!!!  
whats a newt: Not that frequently it isn’t’

Goldie felt mounds of confusion prickle within her, a feeling akin to an itchy wool sweater, to tiny slivers of fluorescent yellow and blue scattering outwards in all directions.

‘qwhat: ???????????’

**Author's Note:**

> Comments would really French my fries. Thanks for reading!


End file.
